


On Being Herself

by zinjadu



Category: Robin Hood (BBC 2006)
Genre: Gen, Grief/Mourning, Identity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-27
Updated: 2012-06-27
Packaged: 2017-11-08 16:13:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/445029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zinjadu/pseuds/zinjadu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Djaq remembers how she lost herself after her brothers death, and then comes back.  Written a while ago, rehosting here.</p>
            </blockquote>





	On Being Herself

Djaq rolled her eyes as she could hear the hooting and hollering even from her spot a good quarter mile from the boys. Allan and Will had gone wandering and discovered a small, clear lake. Instead of being interested in the idea of being clean, it immediately suggested play to all of them. Even old Little John. (Allah forbid they bathe, like dogs they mostly shied away from water brought indoors, but water found outside was just fine.) 

That still meant that Djaq wouldn’t go near them for the world. Never mind that seeing some of them naked was far down on the list of things she wanted to see in her life, but they would see her naked. Or in a state of undress. It would only bring home the fact that she wasn’t one of the lads. She was one of the lads as long as she didn’t remind them that she was a girl. She dearly would like to be clean. 

Part of her wanted to kick herself and stride over to the pool, take off her clothes and jump in. Get clean and play like she was just like them. That would be what Djaq would do. But she wasn’t Djaq. Not completely. Not really. She might have wanted to become Djaq, being him was easier than admitting that her brother, her twin, was gone. It was easier to let go of Safiyyah than Djaq. To let go of herself had been no great task. There had been little there to begin with, a scared girl in the middle of a war, brother and father gone. The father she had followed, the brother she had watched die, vomiting his own blood with his sister’s hands holding his guts together. 

She noticed her face had become flushed and tears making their telltale tracks down her face. Angrily, she brushed them away. Djaq wasn’t dead. He was alive in her. Born of the same womb, they were one, and always would be. It mattered little that Safiyyah was pushed aside. 

The laughter coming closer, Djaq realized the boys were done being foolish in the lake and were going to be foolish on dry land now. She straightened her shoulders and resumed making poultices. She had grown tired of not having any on hand, and used any free time to stock up on medical supplies. 

They joked and nudged her, telling her that she should’ve come along. Allan said so with a slight grin, and she saw a spark of lust in his eyes. Will did not bother her, but he did watch her warily, unsure which way she would react. 

Djaq made simple pleasantries, not paying any sort of attention to them and their jostling. 

That night she slipped off on her own and bathed in the clear pool. Alone. 

Or, so she had thought. 

One of them was waiting for her, back turned. It seemed a kind gesture, but she had been spied on. Again. There seemed to be a lack of privacy in these woods. 

“I’m not being funny or anything, but don’t you think that it woulda been easier to do that in the day?” Allan said, identifying himself by voice and idosyncratic way of speaking. 

“Oh? I suppose you bathe with naked women all the time?” Djaq said dryly, not sure what she wanted the answer to be. 

Allan shrugged. “Look, I’m just saying that you don’t have to worry so much about being a woman.” 

“You know so much about being a woman and a woman’s worries?” 

“Would you stop asking questions like that?” Allan snapped, turning slightly to look at her from out the corner of his eye. She was not fully dressed, but he did not turn away out of embarrassment; he did not turn away at all. “I get it, you know. You miss him, and you think if you stop acting like a boy, you’ll be letting him go. Well, yeah, you will, but that doesn’t mean you’ll forget him. He was your brother. That doesn’t change. But you’re still Safiyyah, even if you want to be called Djaq. If you don’t accept that, then you’re both dead.” 

She said nothing. She took a step back, unsure what prompted any of this from a man notorious for being relaxed to the point of laziness. He was also just plain lazy. This was unfamiliar territory, and she did not like it. 

“Why are you saying this, Allan?” 

“Cause its true, alright? You can dress like a boy, and try to act like one, but that doesn’t change that you’re a woman. Nothing can. But you seem to hate being a woman. I don’t get that. How can you hate being yourself?” he asked, turning fully now that she was dressed, back in her familiar clothes. The ones that Djaq had worn when he was alive, altered to fit her, but still his clothes. 

“I do not hate myself.” Djaq said, glaring at this presumptuous man who thought he could know her. 

“Really?” he pushed. 

“Really,” she snapped. 

He shrugged. “Coulda fooled me.” 

“Do you really think you know me? That you understand what goes on inside my head?” she challenged. 

“Yeah, I do. I know people. I used to charm people outta money all the time. I was pretty good at it, too. And I know you. You don’t like your own skin. You aren’t comfortable. That’s as plain as day.”

“You know nothing,” she spat. She strode away, meaning to pass him by in a good righteous fury, leaving him on his rock to think about what he had said. She even knew what she would do if he dared to reach out and grab at her as she passed him. Instead he spoke words that made her stop in her tracks. 

“I know what its like to loose your brother, to loose someone you love. I know it takes the heart out of you,” he said. “But you shouldn’t let it.”

Djaq turned back to face him once more, unsure of what to day. Allan was being open, honest and Djaq wanted to run far away, but she stayed. 

“And what do you suggest I do?” she asked, still proud with her head held high, but scared at the idea of letting go of the identity she had imposed on herself. 

“You asking me? Honest?” Allan asked, eyebrow raised and not quite believing Djaq hadn’t hit him, or stabbed him or done something else to him that was unpleasant. 

“Yes.”

He took a deep breath and spoke the truth. “I think you should do what makes you happy. You, not him. And happy, really happy.” He shrugged and looked away. “Whatever that is.”

Then it dawned on her. He did not know if fighting in the gang was what she would have wanted to do. He thought it was what her brother would have done, which would explain why she was still there.

She smiled. Another thought occurred to her.

“Then how about you help me something tomorrow?”

His head snapped up and he watched her with bright eyes. “Yeah?”

“I need new clothes. These ones,” she said, picking at her vest, “are becoming rather worn. And I would like things that fit me better. I think I will need help in procuring a few items.”

Allan smiled in answer. “You got it.”


End file.
